A BURMESE LONELINESS.
Inside the pagoda, the Sawbwaas pretty women still linger, placing a few candles on the altar. Jewels gleam in their dark hair, of which a knob can be seen above their turbans. They wear the usual fashionable skirt of Keng Tung, It is striped round with bands of black, yellow, and red, with a broad green or mauve velvet border at the bottom. The Sawbwaas Queen, and his Mother, Sau Nang Hso Wanna (called the a Mey Daw a) come across and say a few words. The Meff Daw is a very determined old lady. She i3 the power behind the throne. At present the solemnity of her surroundings lends extra dignity and charm to her manner. But she has been known, when the Military Police bagpipes lured her, to dance a sword dance with the Commandant of Loimwe! ! Now she passes out to the palace, and the monastery is left silent and dim. Only one little figure remains, and slips his hand into mine. It is the Sawbwaas little son. He cannot gA home to the Haw he explains, proudly indicating hlS jellow robe. He is now entered as a novice. But he will be released again in time for the next a Water Festival a at Tagoo, to work his villainous squirt.
Upon the holy days in Lent Within these dim and solemn halls,
Where generations thus have spent Their Sabbath days within these walls :
Where slender lines of pillars lose Themselves high up in dusky roofs Beneath the sombre sweep of tile :
Linger. And gaze on Budh a-whiie.Linger. And gaze on Budh a-whiie.